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Sabbatical Year
New Normal
One month after ending vanlife, we reflect on our new normal.
Month After: New Normal
4/5/2023
Colorado
If there was any question before, we are officially back to the real world. Jake & I are both in the full swing of full time jobs again. We have moved into an apartment and Leinie is re-acclimating to a non-mobile home.
Leinie is a trooper. The plants, not so much…
Transitioning from vanlife back to apartment life has been a learning curve. Purging stuff was tough going into vanlife, we figured re-acquiring stuff would be a similar struggle. Now as I type this, sitting on a curb alert craigslist couch, I look at our near empty apartment that has only the totes we’ve lived out of for the past year. We knew we would need to re-acquire furniture but we overlooked smaller items like a shower curtain, clothes hangers, and eating utensils that don’t combine the fork, spoon and knife into a single unit. It seems I am running to the store every other day because life is just easier when you have dishwashing pods for the dishwasher ya know.
Full disclosure, this work thing isn’t my favorite. While I do enjoy a steady income channel, this “daily grind” thing is for the birds. I’m already back to counting down to retirement. Don’t get me wrong, this is definitely not a dig at my new place of employment. My new hospital has been fantastic and just up my orthopod alley, but I will choose sleeping in and yoga with my dog at 10am over work every single time if given the choice.
Jake for his part segwayed from roof racks and accessories into professional van conversions and maintenance. His first week on the job and the words “what if we went back to vanlife” came out of his mouth. Yes, pick your jaw up off the floor. I’m pretty sure I spit out the beer I was drinking. He claims that with a taller, longer vehicle we could make it work long term.
Regardless, he has a renewed interest in vanlife and has a long list of projects for the Yellow Submarine. My fingers are crossed for a heater cuz tailgating season got a bit on the chilly side.
Leinie does not enjoy the decreased amount of attention directly resulting from full time jobs for Jake and myself. However, he is and always has been a trooper. He has a new couch which he loves as much, if not more than the SoCal couch. He also has new dog park friends that he sees almost every day, this time around they are all his size. But he has been dealt a curve ball with the apartment. The tree just past our patio attracts the largest, fattest, honeybadger-trapped-in-squirrel-bodies I have ever seen (they don’t give an ish about nothing, including Leinie). He was very caught off guard by their lack of interest in him. The fact that they are half his size could also be throwing him off.
Bold squirrels
So life has formed into a new normal. Not quite the free-flowing life as in the Yellow Submarine was, but a good normal. We kept our eyes on the new priorities we found in the past year. We sip coffee together in the mornings. We finish work and are home at super reasonable, well-before-dark time of the day so we can enjoy some quality time disc golfing, sipping beers at the neighborhood brewery, or socializing at the dog park. We have plenty of time and green space to enjoy the beautiful outdoors. Have I mentioned the mountain views?
The Yellow Submarine you ask? Still here, a bit more empty than it has been, but ready for the next adventure. I have a list for peak bagging at hand. The tramily has discussed ideas for backcountry fun. There are even some plans for more exploration on the beer front. So stay tuned…
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Parked
Twelve months, one whole year. Where we’ve been, where we are, where we plan to be.
Month Twelve: Parked
3/5/2023
Colorado
One year, 366 days ago we sold almost all of our stuff, moved out of our apartment, quit our jobs and took a leap. We moved into a 53 sq. ft. van dubbed the Yellow Submarine and drove with only a rough idea of the places we’d like to see.
Baby Vanlifers!
Our very first night in the van was rough. Leinie was accidentally fed old trail kibble instead of his normal food and was up all night …we’ll go with evacuating, both ends, violently. Poor guy. Jake and I got zero sleep and Jake was left with a giant load of laundry the next morning while I was finishing up my last week at work. It can’t get worse, right?
It didn’t. It got better. We developed routines, took naps, explored new places, met fantastic people we never would’ve met before we were vehicle-dwellers. Desert Scott and Cosmo, Apocalypse Jane Doe, Utah Rick and Hazel, Barista Brandon, Camp Host Ricky, and Steamboat Jeff to name just a few. We explored national parks (Zion was my fave). Tasted many, many coffee roasters (best ones were Philz - LA, Cafe D’arte - Seattle, Camp 4 Coffee - Crested Butte). Drank more pints of beer than I could possibly count. Hit dirt on foot and pedal (Fremont Saddle, Hobbit Trail, Dry Hill, Phil’s Trailhead, all of St. George, and don’t forget the month we spent soggy on the SHT).
Oh, the places you’ll see!
It wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows. There were fights, tough conversations, van repairs, and a dwindling savings. But that’s life. You learn and grow from them and realize what is a priority and what isn’t. You compromise, apologize, and move forward.
We learned what we want in a lifestyle and community and where work fits into that instead of the other way around. Life is too short and while work pays the bills, the life outside of work is what matters most. We wanted to work to live, not live to work. That is what this past year has shown us most.
So as our sabbatical year comes to a close, we are preparing the Yellow Submarine to be parked. Not for good, we love having an adventure vehicle (let’s not forget the Death Valley debacle of 2022). Jake wants a couch to sprawl on and I’m craving a kitchen again (I know, I almost choked typing that, but I’ve grown as a cook, who would’ve thought? Not my twenty-one year old self!) And as much as we learned how minimal we can be, 53 sq ft is a bit less than ideal for long-term living. We did look at a 900 sq ft apartment and had no idea how we would utilize that much space. Hah!
A whopping 53 sq ft
Where are we parking ourselves you ask? One of our goals this past year was to find a place we loved, with the lifestyle we crave and carve out a life and career there. We fell in love with Sedona and it’s glorious hiking. Utah stole our hearts with its beautiful parks. Then we crushed hard, so hard on Bend with the trails and craft brews. The Oregon Coast was magical. Bellingham swept us off our feet with the mountain and ocean views. So out of all the suitors, who won?
Colorado. We have always loved the frontrange and we’ve played hard-to-get with this state for years. We came at the start of the month to visit with Adam and buckle down on choosing our place and the pieces all fell into place here. It was familiar, comfortable, and can you beat those mountain views(?). DIA is an affordable, convenient airport for our itchy traveling feet. So we let Colorado finally catch us.
Even the breweries here knew we’d stay
We still are deeply enamored with our other city crushes, and they will always be available. To visit or even to possibly move to later. Is Colorado forever? Probably not, but it feels right, right now and that’s what matters. So we are parking ourselves, right here in Colorado.
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Stuck
Eleven month down, and we find ourselves stuck…
Month Eleven: Stuck
2/5/2023
Minnesota - Nebraska - Colorado
I sat down to write this update and realized I had nothing really to share. Or at least it felt that way.
We were stuck in Minnesota longer than anticipated due to Jake sustaining an unknown crazy injury to his ankle/foot. So we waited it out in Minnesota, slowly repacking everything into not only the Yellow Submarine but my little mazda. After about a week, he was able to move around in relative comfort (or rather not in overt discomfort) and off we took in our modern day wagon train.
Our goal: Omaha to visit with my brother, Dan. We made a pitstop in Des Moines for one last visit to Paws & Pints and so Leinie could stretch his legs and release some pent up energy.
Someone had fun playing in the snow
Leaving Des Moines we hit snow, a lot of snow. For anyone not familiar with the midwest/great plains in winter, oh man, it is a feat. The wind combines with snow and the semis all kick up crazy amounts of splash. Visibility at one point was maybe 20 yards. We pulled over at one point to see what our options were, we cleared off the headlights and elected to keep moving.
We rolled up to Dan’s around 10pm and found an icy mound of snow piled at the end of his driveway. He was still out of town on a work trip so Jake and I found shovels and the snowblower and got to work at the horrible task of clearing it. I was feeling very sure of my decision to never live in winter hell ever again.
After Dan arrived the next day, we were able to enjoy a single day of not horrible, terrible weather. And then it got cold. Very, very cold. Negative double digits. So we were stuck, again. The three of us stayed very much inside and Leinie learned very quickly to pee and poop very, very quickly. Jake attempted to leave early in order to spend quality bro time with Adam but ended up turning around after 20 minutes on the highway due to crazy high winds. At the second window of not horrible weather (it was still negative double digits), Jake attempted escape number two and made it to Fort Collins.
I was supposed to follow a day later after some more time with the bro. However, my car refused to start. The severe cold drained the battery. So I spent all morning jumping it with Dan’s car and felt pretty confident after a test run to the gas station. The next day, dead. Again. So I spent another morning jumping my poor car. Any guesses on the third morning? Yep, deader than a doornail. I was prepared and woke up early to jump it with Dan’s car and let it charge while I packed.
And off Leinie and I were, with a hope and a prayer that it would restart when I stopped en route to Fort Collins. When Leinie and I stopped at a rest stop for a bathroom break, I kept the car running. We had to fill up on gas in western Nebraska and I have never filled up so fast in my life. I held my breath and…it started. Collective sigh of relief
I know, I’m a badass.
I made it to Fort Collins without having to stop again. Whew. Spoiler, my car continued to need periodic jumps and ended up getting a brand spanking new battery.
Adam graciously opened his door to our transient family and we moved right on in and made ourselves at home. We had a goal: figure out what the heck we are going to do. We needed to reenter the real world soon. Where, how, and all that had to be figured out.
Guys, you know how well this group deals with indecision. I can safely tell you, we still have no effing idea. I mean, who knew that finding the best job in the best location in an area that is large enough to not be boring but small enough to feel comfortable with access to a good airport would be so difficult to determine.
So, yea. I feel like not much has happened this last month. We’ve been stuck, several times and now we’re stuck in indecision. At least indecision is a familiar bed fellow, so I’m sure we’ll figure it out eventually. I mean, we can’t be vagabonds forever, right?
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Hitting the Reset
Ten months in, a new year and time to hit the reset.
Month Ten: Hitting the Reset
1/5/2023
Minnesota - Iowa - Tennessee - Minnesota
Happy Holidays & Happy New Year y’all!
So what the heck have we been up to? Short answer, a whole lot and a whole lot of nothing at the same time. Feel free to skip ahead the adorable pic of Leinie with Santa if you are fine with that. For those looking for a bit more, please, continue on.
One thing I promised myself when I started logging our adventures for literally anyone on this planet (and other planets I guess, I am nothing if not inclusive) was that I wanted the stories to be authentic. No clout, no sponsored falsehoods, no glossing over difficulties to lure anyone into believing I lived this super cool, awesome, amazing life. While I am not of the share-all generation, proud millennial thank you very much, and have no desire to deep dive a read-all of my or others personal lives, I do care to share enough to not hide when times are tough. Case in point, all the times I admit to ragey tears and struggles while hiking.
Long answer: it’s been a struggle. As some from my generation would say, the struggle has never been more real. Sorry boomers and zoomers. Jokes aside, the struggle has been very, very hard. There is no single cause, more of a cumulation of factors all compounding into a stress storm. Because of the stress and struggles, I have struggled with putting pen to paper, er, keyboard to website.
Vanlife can be amazing, it can also be hard, just as any lifestyle. You get the freedom to get up and leave whenever you choose. You also give up space and when you stay at another’s home, whether parked in a driveway or crashing inside their home for indoor plumbing, you give up a degree of autonomy. Routines are hard to create and maintain with constant movement and resettling. If one person is committed to work in one location and the other wants to travel, do you give up time together or stay put for the duration of the work commitment. What if that work commitment takes you away from your partner regardless.
I am the very first to admit that even be able to have the luxury of choosing vanlife is exactly that, a luxury. This is not, and never will be a complaint. There are a vast number of people out there with struggles I couldn’t comprehend. That isn’t to say that I struggled with the last couple months because I did. I also didn’t handle that stress very well. Autonomy, routines, freedom, and relationships are extremely important to me. When all those felt like they were breaking down, I felt like I was drowning. Jake felt like he was dying of thirst. It’s hard to imagine or comprehend someone dying of thirst when you are drowning and vice versa.
It was a rough couple months, but that isn’t to say everything was dark and horrible.
Leinie is concentrating very, very hard
Leinie tried his absolute best to be a good boy for Santa. Spoiler, Santa brought him a puzzle brain to work his busy little brain.
We wrapped up a struggle of a season with the Liberty Bowl game in Memphis, Tennessee where ISU faced off against Memphis (yes, again). Memphis took their revenge when ISU decided to not play. Don’t worry, the game couldn’t hurt me anymore than the season already had.
Pic is always taken before the game when hopes are high
To make up for a cold, unsatisfying game there was food. If you’ve never been to Memphis, you are sorely missing out. Dry rub ribs, fried chicken, grits, gumbo, and so much sweet tea you could bathe in it. We discovered the “most haunted bar in America” that used to be a brothel.
Earnestine & Hazel’s in Memphis
While discussing new year resolutions at the bar with the person next to us, waiting for the guitar drop mirrored ball raise we discussed the game and disappointment over ISU not showing up to play. He pondered for a bit and then suggested maybe this year instead of resolutions on this or that which always get thrown out by Feb, everyone just makes the effect to show up. Beer brings out the best philosophers.
It made sense though; we were in desperate need of a reset. A hard reset to be exact. The one where you unplug your xbox and plug it back in prior to restarting it. We need to unplug and reset ourselves. So we are. I am unplugging from social media for a bit, we are focusing on the rebuilding routines and finding our new spot to call home.
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Bit by the Bug, Again
Eight months into their sabbatical year and our heroes are feeling stagnant in the midwest. What will they do?
Month Eight: Bit by the Bug, Again
11/5/2023
Minnesota - Iowa - Kentucky - Texas
We had been pretty stagnant in the last month spending all of it in the midwest. This month was all about getting bit by the bug again…
Football season is in full swing. That meant another weekend tailgating to start off month eight. We had the whole gang for this one.
Minnow Farmers at Welch Ave Station watching the game
It took our tetris king to get everyone to fit for sleeping in the lot, but we did it with minimal headaches. Great start to the month.
Jake headed back to Minnesota with Leinie and the Yellow Submarine while I drove south to Louisville, Kentucky. Why, you ask? Only the best work-related time of the entire year: The ACVS Surgery Summit. An annual party learning opportunity where you can reconnect with old friends and learn something new. Jake flew down to meet everyone after getting a few work days in.
This year I decided to torture myself expand my boundaries and volunteered to present on the super sexy topic of live streaming from the OR. Oh yea, IT is so attractive. I didn’t vomit or faint, so I call it a win.
Doing some professional stuff
The surgery summit has the habit of reigniting my excitement for veterinary surgery. Let’s face it, I am a huge nerd and I could talk fracture physics for hours. Show me a novel technique on tacking down the meniscus and I get giddy. Bit again by the surgical bug.
Jake drove the car back to Minnesota and I flew to Austin, Texas. This time it was a veterinary technician conference geared towards my personal soapbox of technician growth and support. I have no excuse other than I must have been drunk when I volunteered for not one, not two but four professional presentations in a two week span. One done, two to go for this conference. This time I was presenting on client compliance and surgery safety checklists. I know, try to contain your enthusiasm.
While in Austin, I took a day off from conference learning to explore the city. Tuesdays are free at the art museum on the university campus so I took full advantage. I’m the first to admit that I am definitely not an art person, so after an hour of looking at contemporary paintings that was more than enough for me. With the LBJ presidential library on the other side of campus, I meandered through enemy territory (hiss Longhorns) and explored LBJ and Lady Bird’s contributions to our great experiment. There was a quote from Lady Bird that may or may not resonate with you.
From the Lady Bird exhibit
And that’s as far into politics as I care to dive.
Anywho, I wandered through the Capitol building and took a free tour. Beautiful buildings, fascinating history, and throw in a protest on education as our tour progressed, it was wild! I was hungry and thirsty so I explored a highly recommended neighborhood undergoing crazy expansion. Hopscotching around construction equipment I stopped at a Bavarian biergarten that brings a whole new level to food fusion. Enter, the jalapeno cheddar wurst. Amazing!
If the state of Texas was indiscreet with the city of Portland (OR), the love child would be Austin. That was the vibe I got from the city. It was artsy, loud, big, and full of fabulous tex-mex styled food. I loved it. Exploring the city and its culture hit me like a brick wall. I missed the roulette trips Jake and I would take where we would get the cheapest plane tickets available regardless of destination. The travel bug bit hard. Jake stated he was feeling it too.
Before I knew it I was flying back to Minnesota for the last presentation, a webinar on open fractures. Wounds and fractures, does it get any better than that? Don’t look at me like that.
Just like that, the month was already past the halfway mark. Halloween was quickly approaching. Anoka, our old home, is the Halloween Capital of the World. It is a big deal here. Naturally, Jake & I are very active Halloween participants. This year’s theme, Dungeons & Dragons (the movie characters)
Edgin Darvis (bard), Fat Dragon & Xenk (paladin)
Anoka hosts a wonderful tent party every year, and this year was just as amazing. The tribute band was on fleek (Jake, did I use that correctly? He says no).
The weather was less than ideal, it is Minnesota after all. Anytime after August, you risk snow. First winter was knocking on the door as the temp plummeted below freezing and it ended up being a white Halloween with snow falling the night before.
So cold, much white
While pretty, it was frigid and it wasn’t even the standard arctic temps. The thoughts of sand, margs, and beaches was front and center in my mind. Jake was in agreement, this cold weather stuff was for the birds and even they fly south for the winter.
Thankfully, Iowa State’s drinking team football team decided they actually wanted to play this year and have pulled off some completely unexpected wins. Told you it was character building being a Cyclone. This month closes out with homecoming tailgating and a rough loss against Kansas. Bowl game season is just around the corner. Fingers crossed that ISU makes one, maybe in Texas or Florida. The warm weather bug is biting.
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Doomed to be Soggy
Seven months in and our heroes are back in civilization. Did they survive? What have they been up to?
Month Seven: Doomed to be Soggy
10/5/2023
Minnesota - Iowa
Miss us?
We survived the Superior Hiking Trail, if a bit saturated. Due to rain and footwear falling to pieces, the bounce through the boundary waters on the Border Route and Kekekabic was scratched. I feel the 310+ miles of the SHT is nothing to sneeze at, but I am rather biased.
27 days and 310+ miles later
After getting picked up from the trail, we stuffed ourselves silly and attempted to get dry. I feel cursed. It has rained more often than not, I can’t escape it. It’s like a weird Shyamalan movie where it follows me until I die. I’m forgetting what the sun even looks like. Think I’m being dramatic?
Minnesota was in the midst of a drought. So much so that people mowed their lawn once or twice all summer. To my SoCal friends, that is a big deal. So here Jake and I come along and decide to spend an entire month outside and it rains, almost constantly. We are doomed to be saturated and soggy until we die. We get off trail and I think the longest stretch of time without rain was two days, maybe three.
Ok, drama over, even though it is currently raining as I type this. I took some recovery time at my parent’s cabin rental before they needed to head back south while Jake returned to the jobsite for work. I spent mornings fishing, or more accurately, feeding the fish. In my defense, it was slow for everyone in the boat. Afternoons were for cards and evenings for bonfires (when it wasn’t raining) or really, really terrible horror movies.
I had a date with the town of Ely. My mom grew up there and I used to visit annually until I moved to SoCal. I prefer to wait until after Labor Day when the swampies tourists have mostly left. Some of my favorite places have closed since I’ve been there last, some have moved and there were new ones I discovered. That’s Ely though, like any other town that survives off the tourism trade and the whims of what’s currently fashionable. RIP Rockwood wild rice soup, you’ll be remembered.
I missed the Yellow Submarine and it was time for some vanlife therapy again. Jake and I spent a day cleaning it and getting it ready for some traveling again. Before I get everyone’s hopes up, Jake and I still have some obligations that require further basing in Minnesota before we take off for reals. Short, punchy trips were well within our reach. First up, ISU tailgating.
Anyone traveling through the great cornfield we call Iowa will notice that almost every single vehicle is sporting either an ISU cyclone or Iowa hawkeye decal/license plate/flag/etc. Yes, every. single. one. Iowa (the state) does not have a professional football team so college ball is everything, it's the culture. You are either a Cyclone or a Hawkeye. In the rare case one marries the other, it’s called a divided household. If you think I’m joking or exaggerating, I’m not.
The moral of the backstory being, tailgating is huge. As a Cyclone, I had four (now three) more home games to catch before the season ends. So I hugged Jake and Leinie goodbye for the weekend and jumped in the Yellow Submarine. I rolled up to one of the RV-compatible lots, talked with the guys who ran it and got my spot next to some trees. This was my first time tailgating Friday night and my mind was blown. It was chill, everyone walking around with drinks, meeting and greeting. While the college kids were at the bars and house parties, the adults (read: middle age fogies like myself) were casually sipping beer, talking with our neighbors and enjoying the ambiance of an Iowegian sunset over Jack Trice stadium.
You know it’s game day when your alarm clock is music blasting from a cardinal and gold decked-out skoolie. Nate and Ryan showed up and parked next to the Sub creating a private area for our grill and chairs. There was intermittent rain throughout the day (told you I’m cursed) and it was looking more threatening as kickoff grew near so we packed up a bit early and headed to our bar (Welch Ave Station - order a Minnow Farmer) to watch the game. And, we actually won! That is a big deal for a Cyclone fan. It’s easy to cheer for a team that always wins, it’s character building to be a Cyclone fan, or liver building.
The last bit of the month was building back our emergency van fund. Jake had a roof at the jobsite to stay dry under. I was booked solid with petsitting and was busy walking dogs, running around yards, and driving to and from different houses. Much of that was in rain. Leinie and I even got caught in a downpour on a walk and arrived back at the house soaking wet, yet again. I find myself daydreaming of being back in the desert of the southwest.
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Please Hold
….Has anyone seen our heroes?….
Month Six: Please Hold
9/5/2023
Minnesota
Epic thru hike in progress, please hold…
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Don’t Panic
At five months into an adventure year, our heroes are in crunch time for trail preparations to their biggest backcountry adventure to date. Grab a paper bag and don’t hyperventilate.
Month Five: Don’t Panic
8/5/2023
Minnesota - Wisconsin - Minnesota
Month five has been hands down the fastest month thus far. We arrived in the Pork Pond, Minnesota, settled into temporary house living and gave ourselves through the weekend to relax prior to the chaos of trail preparations. And when I say chaos, it was full-blown, true-to-form, arm-flapping chaos.
Prepping for a weekend backcountry trip (i.e. Maroon Bells or Trans-Catalina) is a hassle when everything goes smoothly. Prepping for a week-long trip (i.e. High Sierra Trail) is an anxiety-ridden marathon. For our planned epic thru hike (Superior Hiking Trail + Border Route + Kekekabic) we will be in the backcountry for roughly 30 days. I feel on the verge of an aneurysm daily. There is just so much to do. Getting in hiking shape (we plan to average 15 miles daily), getting a trail doggo into shape (he will be with us each step of the trip), get replacement/additional gear ordered and tested, and do not get me started on the food. I’m rather shocked Jake’s mom didn’t kick us out as we rapidly took over their dining room for the base of Operation Menu. (Thanks Deb! We owe you!)
Weekends were saved as breaks from trail prep and attempts to relax. There is an old Minnesota tradition known commonly as “The Cabin”. Yes, everyone in Minnesota refers to their cabin, or their friend’s cabin, or a family member’s cabin, or even a rental as “The Cabin” as if there was a singular cabin all 5.7 million of them to share at once. After living in LA, that number doesn’t seem as large anymore. I’m crying and laughing at the same time. We went to the “The Cabin” four of the five weekends.
Back in the land of lakes, loons and Leinies
One of those weekend trips to “The Cabin” was to celebrate another trip around the sun for myself. If you haven’t guessed, my all time favorite beverage to grace this planet is Leinenkugel’s Honey Weiss. It is the Reeses peanut butter cup of beers. Nothing could possibly improve it, it is perfect as is and will be a great beverage in any situation; cold, hot, sweaty, frigid. I mean, I am such a fan I named my dog after this brewery. So we mecca journeyed to Leinie Lodge. This used to be an annual birthday tradition until the commute from SoCal made it a bit tricky.
Leinie Lodge aka Beer Heaven
Anywho, backstory aside, Leinie Lodge was shockingly busy and the tours (I am undefeated at the trivia for the free prize) are now reservable and the next one wasn’t for four hours. Ok, don’t panic. We decided to skip the tour, despite my unbeatable trivia record reputation and just enjoy some sample pints instead. Honey Weiss was still the most perfect beer to froth a glass and I savored mine with the biggest smile on my face.
The trip was hosted by Jake’s sister at her version of “The Cabin” where we fished and Leinie shocked everyone by dock diving.
Mother Nature decided to send me a gift and I ended up with a whomping poison ivy rash on both feet and ankles. Antihistamines, topicals and beer help soothe the burning while I pointedly did not look at the dwindling days until my feet would be stuck in wool socks and boots for a month straight. Woosha.
While nursing the rash, another old tradition was brought back to life. My girl Angie and I celebrated a belated Half Xmas with “The Cabin”, this time it was my parents’ summer rental in Central Minnesota lakes country. We relaxed, drank, floated, and attempted beer yoga. All in all another successful Half Xmas for the books.
Returning to trail prep, someone turned the thermostat way up so the training hikes were put on hold while food prep took center stage. Dehydrating and freeze drying complete (Thanks Steph!), up next was meal assembly. Ever seen a month’s worth of oatmeal before?
64 of them bad boys
You’re welcome.
As the meals were assembled, the days were grouped together into the various resupply boxes. Attempting to work smarter not harder, I got mailing boxes the same volume as our bear keg. If the resupply has to fit in the bear keg, and the box being the same space, if it fits in the box it will fit in the keg. Until it didn’t. Cue paper bag breathing.
Jake did his trail tetris magic and we were back in the clear. If I don’t end up grey by the start of this trip, it will be a miracle.
Meanwhile amongst all the food preparation our weeks looked something like this: daily 5 mile walks with Leinie, gym for strength training 2-3 days, non-gym days were training hikes with full pack weight and mileage, and throw in some yoga for balance ‘cuz I was blessed with the weak family ankles. Gotta replenish the emergency van fund so Jake helped out at his dad’s job site and I picked up some pet sitting gigs. I also signed up months before embarking in the Yellow Submarine for some speaking engagements in October and presentations don’t make themselves. Don’t forget to meet up with family and friends and enjoy the weekly Pancheros visit to make up for lost time as they don’t exist in SoCal (basically a better Chipotle) and we have to sleep at some point right? Told ya we were busy.
Started with 6.5 miles and were doing 15+ miles by trail time
As the trail prep winds to a close, presentations created, some money earned, Pancheros eaten, the panic has started to abate. I feel very tired and may celebrate with a good, hard nap followed by a cold beer.
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Slow It Down
Four months into their epic vagabond adventure and our band of heroes decide to slow it down.
Month Four: Slow It Down
7/5/2023
Colorado - Nebraska - South Dakota - Iowa - Minnesota
After the action-packed first three months, we sloowwwed way down for month four and spent the vast majority of it in Colorado. We left you while we were racing the clock for planned visits with friends…
We started this month nerding out over dinosaurs.
Plate-rod combo was my initial thought on repair…
What a most excellent way to return to a state we love dearly, Colorado. The last few states were hit-or-miss on how dog friendly each town and business was so it was a breath of fresh air when we arrived in Grand Junction and pulled up to a brewery that allows dogs everywhere. *Collective sigh*
We had some van appointments in Grand Junction so we spent three days exploring the town and the neighboring town of Fruta. It was friendly, lived-in, and relaxing…except for one night where we stayed in the least ideal camping spot of the trip yet. Let’s just say we had some entrepreneurs for neighbors.
Leaving Grand Junction we accidently stumbled upon a national park. Yes, we had no idea this existed here nor had we heard of this park before. Black Canyon of the Gunnison. Say that five times fast. It was compact, super pretty and we enjoyed an epic camping spot to boot. Ten outta ten recommend.
Jake doing his thing with a camera
While I love me beer, Jake loves him some mountain biking. So we mecca-journeyed to Crested Butte where it is rumored mountain biking was invented. We settled into our camping spot, made base camp and I attempted to not turn blue at 9,000 ft. It was Jake’s turn for an injury and got “biker’s knee” (patellofemoral pain syndrome for ye fellow surgical nerds). As such, he was taking it easy on the biking and joined Leinie and me for some hiking and town exploring.
Hiking in Crested Butte
My thoughts on Crested Butte? Umm, it rhymes with rusted nuthole while using the C and B. The town was expensive and rather…pretentious. And do not get me started on the trail dog atmosphere.
Ok, I’ll start. I love trail doggos, obv, I’m a vet tech. However, want to know the number one reason I see broken trail doggos? They’re off leash. Yep, I’m that person. If Jake would let me I would hand out freebie slip leads that state “my owner is a jerk and doesn’t know what a leash is”. On this trip I have encountered sooooo many off leash dogs that have zero recall, almost nill manners, and are usually followed by the phrase, “oh, they’re friendly.” Not the damn point. Leinie is a good boy, most of the time. He is also small and is so over being bowled over by larger dogs. As such, when he feels cornered (such as on a leash while another dog, two or three surround him) he becomes reactive. Instead of an apology from the jerk owner with the poorly trained dog, I am somehow the jerk for having a reactive dog. Not unrelated, if your dog jumps on me or pushes their nose in my crouch (usually off leash) I will push them down. No, I will not say “oh, it’s ok” when you give a half-assed apology. Train your damn dog. This shitty thought mentality was ten times worse in Crested Butte than anywhere I had yet experienced. We typically keep Leinie’s dishes outside behind the front passenger wheel and have him on a lead while at camp. We literally ran out of food because off leash trail dogs would come off trail, into our camp, and eat his food. Leinie ain’t dumb and would usually hunker down in the van rather than fend off intruders who were usually a lot bigger than him. The third time it happened, three off leash dogs from a hiking party were running amok in the campsite. I told the group that they needed to leash their dogs. Their response, “We aren’t in town. If you don’t like it, you’re in the wrong place.” Come again?! You know what also happens when your dog is off leash? It shits somewhere, you don’t see (possibly don’t care) and don’t pick it up. The trails were literally covered in dog shit. It was disgusting. Ok, I’m done.
Side note, our campsite was littered with bones. It had weird vibes akin to the movie The Ritual. Venture to Crusted Butthole at your own risk. They did have pretty terrific coffee though.
Not quite my personal choice for a Xmas decoration
Moving on, we moved towards the front range and made a pit stop in Salida where we had the absolute craziest amount of hail I have ever seen in a single storm. Not all days are glamorous, some mornings you spend three hours waiting to be able to do anything.
That ain’t snow
We arrived in Colorado Springs itching to explore the front range. We hit up Garden of the Gods and one of the coolest places to enjoy a beer.
Garden of the Gods
You can actually drink in a school!
We moosied our way along the front range heading north. Jake will always fangirl over Golden and I fell hard for Loveland. But the long rest for showers, a real-ish bed, and regaining hit points was in Fort Collins. Land of breweries, trails, patagonia sweaters and Adam.
We settled right on in with Adam for a little over a week that was rather action-packed. Brewery hopping, flooded biking trails, competitive games of Cataan, and fungi documentaries to name a few.
The tramily doing what we do best…besides hiking
We also packed Adam and Leinie back into the sub for a weekend excursion in Steamboat Springs. Adam became the official first guest of the Yellow Submarine root-tent-airbnb. His reviews were raving. Steamboat was idyllic. We hit town in time for the farmer’s market, enjoyed the core trail and explored their free botanical gardens. Jake and I actually ran into Steamboat Jeff who manages a part (maybe the whole thing) and invited us to his porch to show us moose and bear videos he had.
We ended the evening with a soak in some questionably dark hot springs that lacked showers and had a manager on a power trip. Apparently they offer clothing optional soaking after 10, we didn’t stay…
Then Adam got to experience a vagabond tradition, searching for a site on the weekend. We drove until after midnight before we ended at a site and were able to crawl into bed. The site ended up having terrific morning views and a butt load of mosquitoes.
Before we knew it, we were hugging Adam goodbye and were on our way to do some residency stuff in South Dakota. Along the way we passed through western Nebraska and stopped to enjoy Scotts Bluff and Chimney Rock. Why do those names sound familiar? Here’s a clue, they happen to coincide with dysentery and caulking a wagon to float.
The OG vanlife
Up next was a strange place called Carhenge. I get there isn’t a whole lot to do in Nebraska, but this had to have sprouted from next level boredom mixed with a healthy dose of hold-my-beer.
The vannus intermedius, the missing link between the covered wagon and modern vanlife vehicle
We continued our sight seeing as we entered South Dakota, hitting Mount Rushmore in the Black Hills, before reaching Deadwood.
Home, sweet home. Sorta. We technically are residents of Spearfish, but Lawrence County’s offices are in Deadwood. We rolled into town which was noticeably more crowded than when we came in winter and as it apparently happens in South Dakota, we got caught in stopped traffic due to a reenactment shootout. Once the gunpowder cleared we stopped in our now favorite casino Mr. Wu’s for cheapo tap beer.
The next morning I got fresh license plates for my car. After a quick pit stop at the post office (postcards!) I attempted to get a library card, and was denied! What in the actual hell?! This is clearly the root cause for the destabilization of society.
While I was brooding over the library card, Jake drove us to the Badlands where the mosquitoes took on a new level of demon possession. It was like my legs had chicken pox. We had a pretty epic camping spot and got hit by a crazy wind/thunderstorm that had us only slightly nervous.
Badlands National Park
We explored Badlands National Park the next day and the Minuteman Missile Site. Then it was a loooong day of driving. Originally we had hoped to make it to Des Moines in one shot but that was quickly thrown out the window when we rolled into Souix Falls at 7pm for a stretch. A walk to stretch the legs, a beer to stretch our livers, and we were back on our way to get some miles in before we called it a night.
We made it to Iowa and our friends, Nate and Ryan the next day to kick off our Des Moines short rest (1d10 hit die). We ate, we drank, we hit up a car show where we ate and drank some more. There were breweries and the guys’ first shot at D&D. Yes, the sickness spreads.
Naturally Ryan takes the picture when my eyes are closed.
The month was winding up and Jake had some work lined up in Minnesota, so we hugged Nate and Ryan goodbye just as people were getting heavy handed with fireworks. We weren’t a mile into Minnesota when we counted three, yes three, Lindahl billboards. Non-Minnesota friends, if you have no clue what I am talking about, count your blessings.
We made good time and arrived at Jake’s parents which would serve as our base of operations for trail preparations. We settled in, deep cleaned the van and out came the laptops for some serious crunch time trail organization.
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Suck It Up
Just like that, our adventurers are three months deep. What lows have they had to overcome and what highs have they enjoyed?
Month Three: Suck It Up
6/5/2023
Oregon - Washington - Montana - Wyoming - Utah
And just like that we are three months deep into our adventure. This month we slowed down and took our time exploring the PNW. In the midst of the forested woods, we learned a new theme: Suck it up. The scenery helped and so did the beer.
Bend. Oh, glorious Bend, our beloved brown ale. We spent over a week parked at a trailhead just outside town. We hit the trails in the morning and then explored town in the afternoon. And we drank beer. How could we not when the town has one of the highest breweries per capita in the nation. Sedona who?
Halfway through our stay, our monthly theme would catch me as I went ass over teakettle on Jake’s mountain bike and did an admiral impression of a rock skipping water except it was my face and the asphalt. And to ensure my ego wasn’t too intact after that, I slipped getting out of the van and tweaked the hell outta my bad ankle. Time to suck it up, buttercup.
I watched Jake hit the trails in the following mornings while I took vitamins (read: nsaids) and limped my bleeding and bruised self around camp until Jake returned and we explored town more. The ample opportunities for beer on tap helped with the pain and the fomo (Mom, that stands for “fear of missing out”).
We had a long, drawn-out farewell with our new favorite city. We slept in, made our way to a brewery and parked ourselves for several hours. Jake demolished the best smashburger of all time, made from the food truck outside. Finally, we sucked it up and returned to the road. We started this trip with the intention to explore after all.
Breweries visited: Goodlife, 10Barrel, Bend Brewing, Deschuetes
We headed west in the hopes of exploring Crater Lake only to find out that we should have researched ahead of time. It was currently under six feet of snow with a single driveable viewpoint of the lake. It was freezing cold at that elevation, the heavy traffic made the snow icy slick, and my swollen foot only fit in my moccasin still. Sucked it up and was awarded an amazing view of the lake. We will need to visit again in better weather and fitness.
Temp stand-in until a nice picture is downloaded from the fancy camera…
Continuing west, we came upon the Oregon Coast. We had no expectations for the area and were completely blown away. What is normally a six hour drive from point-to-point, we spread over five days. Just like a maibock, this area was for slow, sippin’ enjoyment. We ate and drank our way from Coos Bay in the south to Astoria in the north, with breaks for us to disc golf and Jake to bike. Still nursing a heavily bruised, swollen ankle and foot I completed both recent seasons of Love is Blind and Bridgerton within those five days as I had run out of available books on my kindle. We suck it up in our own ways, ok?
Obligatory hiking pic of Oregon coast
Rogue International HQ
Tillamook Creamery to eat our weight in dairy
Heeeey you guuuuys! Goonies beach.
Breweries visited: 7 Devils, Rogue Bayfront & International HQ, Pelican, Astoria, Buoy Brewing…also, Tillamook Creamery (disclosure: not a brewery, but just as awesome)
Oregon had been such a delight, from wooded, arid desert to moss-covered rainforests, dune-filled beaches, picturesque bays and harbors. In the midwest every town has a bar and a church, in Oregon it's a dispensary and two breweries. I kid you not. The state welcomes van-dwelling vagabonds with a hug and free sample of beer. We discovered that casinos will let you park for free and give you free slot play to boot. Both mornings we awoke hungover were directly following a casino evening, hmm. We had to remind ourselves that we needed to keep exploring, our adventure wasn’t over yet. So onward to Washington we went.
We weren’t ready to ditch the PNW coast yet and attempted to follow the Washington portion north. That ended with a few hours following a U-shaped road on a peninsula looking at sloughs (the fancy word for swamps) only to end up on the main highway north towards Olympic National Park.
Found Sasquatch
Olympic was … unlike any other national park we had visited. First, it’s huge. Something like a million acres? Second, there’s no gate where you show your pass, at least where we drove. It had us questioning if we were in the park or outside the park. Which is important with a trail doggo since the NPS doesn’t allow them many places in parks. A rant for another day. Within the park, there were private homes which was weird. There were also some campgrounds managed by the NPS and others by the state which required a separate pass. Sucking it up was rather frustrating.
Washington thus far had the unfortunate luck of following glorious Oregon. It couldn’t win. The flying ant-bugs were horrible. It was sweltering hot, apparently unseasonably sunny and warm for this time of year. Campgrounds were small with limited sites that filled quickly. And we had the unwelcome return of the cockamouse. It felt like the roulette game of a wild-fermented beer and Lady Luck was just not on our side. If it wasn’t for an obligation in Tacoma we would’ve left then and there.
Jake, armed with a plastic bag and soup ladle, ready to wage war on the cockamouse
With a work “observation” in Tacoma, we hesitantly entered the Puget Sound area. From the north end of Tacoma with the view of the sound, it had us regretting our grumbling about the state and starting to get the feels again. But the town is waging war on the houseless and nowhere in town allows overnight parking, casinos and rest stops included. The travel center had hired private security to patrol and only allowed CDL drivers to spend the night. In a desperate race against time we lucked out with a county campground two towns over with super chill campground hosts.
A hurried morning and having to be “on” for five hours left me dehydrated, starving, and mentally exhausted. Beer and pizza later, we explored the weird McMenamis Elks Temple and hit up Dorky’s arcade bar in Tacoma. The city can be fun but it felt like downtown LA with more chaos.
Jake enjoying the McMenamis Elks Temple
The next morning we were en route to Seattle. I have always loved visiting this city prior and was excited to show Jake what I loved here, but it was never with a car or needing to drive. That challenge aside, we ate and drank our way through Pike Place Market, Pioneer Square and back. We met Barista Brandon who gave us free espressos and great recommendations for the next time we visit.
Eating our weight in seafood.
Seattle was a quick visit since parking was costing us as much as gas. So we found ourselves in traffic heading north. During a grocery and laundry stop we debated just heading straight east and scratching our plans to head north to Bellingham. Washington was still not sitting right with us. We decided to suck it up and give it one more chance, but held zero expectation.
Well, what would ya know? Even wild-fermented beers can turn out shockingly good. Bellingham was the best kept secret of the trip. A randomly stumbled upon town in a trail app that turned into a three day stay because we couldn’t pull ourselves away. It was Fort Collins without the Patagonia cult (though high 70’s isn’t conducive to the better sweater). It had the outdoor feel of Bend, but had an ocean to boot and better road infrastructure. Ok B-ham, ok.
The Portal, container park in Bellingham
So sucking it up wrought unforeseen reward. Noted.
We headed east and hit up the kitchy town of Leavenworth. For a town fashioned from Bavarian culture, spaetzle was surprisingly hard to find. I don’t know who out there needs to hear this: There is more to German food than bratwurst and pretzels! You’re welcome.
Touristy, no?
I attempted to suck it up, but spaetzle and schnintzle have a special place in my heart/gut, so I was rather pouty about it. The universe or the natural chaos that is wild fermentation must have heard me because I happened upon a few morels while peak bagging with Leinie. As anyone in our situation would, Jake and I enjoyed scramby eggs topped with … we’ll go with charred morels.
We hit Spokane for town chores and cheap movie theater tickets for Dungeons and Dragons. I cried from laughing so hard. Then before we knew it, we were waving goodbye to Washington.
Breweries visited: E9, Pike Place, Khulsan, Menace, Gruff, Boundary Bay, Icicle
Looking at the calendar, we realized that we had planned visits with friends quickly approaching…several states away. Oops. We had some dedicated driving days in our future. Time to suck it up, again.
Driving days were not this much fun
We did a hop and skip through the chimney of Idaho to reach Montana. We wanted to desperately enjoy Montana but limited time meant carefully picking spots to stop. Glacier was still under snow and constant on/off rain prevented biking and hiking. Our first pick, Missoula held the nicest laundry facility of our trip thus far. But no brewery patio in town would allow dogs so we were quickly back on the road.
Just past Butte, we parked ourselves in dispersed land on the continental divide. It happened to also be the Friday of Memorial Day weekend so naturally it was crowded as hell, with atv/side-by-side/dirt bike riding, gun totin’ free ‘Muricans. True story, we heard music blasting all night and Jake woke to someone shooting guns at 7am. Something about loud music and fear of a stray bullet passing through your vehicle isn’t conducive to sound sleep, I guess. We woke up feeling more tired than when we went to bed.
We packed up and went across the highway to the non-motorized portion of public land and placed some pawprints on the CDT. It’s a triple crown trail when paired with the PCT and AT. While we don’t plan on thru hiking these bad boys, we have hiked portions of two now. AT, looking at you.
Continental Divide Trail
We stopped in Bozeman for a break from the road miles where we spent a couple of glorious hours at the hot springs. One guy in our pool asked if we were the couple he met the previous night where he worked. The subliminal messaging must’ve worked because we ended up at his brewery a couple hours later by complete accident. Weird. Bozeman felt bougie, the California influx was palpable. A stark contrast to the previous night.
Montana’s landscape is glorious, but rain prevented us from hitting the trails. The time crunch left us with little time to stop anyway. We ended up clocking miles while discussing why we were left confused by Montana. It was hard to put a finger on it. I wanted to love it, the wild-ness of the landscape called to us but the settled population left me confused. You’re telling me that gun-totin’ free ‘Muricans are so afraid of dog hair in their food that they ban dogs from even being on an outdoor patio? It tasted like wort, Montana was having an identity crisis and needed to figure out what it wanted to be when it grew up.
Making good mileage left us with a few days to explore the parks in Wyoming and we scored the best dispersed (free) camping site yet on this trip.
10 outa 10 recommend for reading, working, and napping
Yellowstone was first and we spent two days exploring this crazy fenceless zoo filled with ominous holes.
Yellowstone is the epitome of the Floor is Lava game
Grand Teton was next up to bat and left me googling future backcountry trips. I am actively choosing to ignore the type 3 fun we had in Maroon Bells and telling myself it’s the type 2 fun of Whitney.
Is this even real?!
We took a break to stretch the legs in Jackson Hole before continuing on. And ohmigosh, the rain. So much rain. Since hitting trails was out of the question, we did some of our longest driving days yet. In one day we bounced from Wyoming to Idaho to Utah back to Wyoming ping ponged back to Utah before returning to Wyoming. Dizzy? So was I.
More intermittent rain left us with town days and plenty of naps. With so many days in a row of nothing but driving and listening to rain, it was getting very hard to suck it up. Jake was ready to throw in the towel and head straight to a couch and shower in Minnesota, but we persevered and were rewarded. We finally got some sunshine the last two days of our third month where we could hike around the border of Utah and Colorado looking at dinosaur bones. Hold onto your butts, month four is just starting.
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Gettin’ Our Asses Outa Here
Two months in and our heroes have taken the road less choiced by the horns. Where have they been, what have they seen?
Month Two: Gettin’ Our Asses Outa Here
5/5/2023
Arizona - Utah - Idaho - Oregon
Month Two Done! Ohmigosh! Where’s Charlie Berens when you need him? Don’t mind me and my bowtonk midwest humor….Wow that spiraled. This month was all about gettin’ our butts outa the comfort zone and on the road.
Sedona. The amber ale, obv. The cool, popular, super attractive kid in class that also is nice to everyone. We crushed so hard on Sedona. A whole two breweries (Oak Creek & Sedona Beer Co.), LA-esque crowds & traffic, the lack of showers. Despite that, we stayed a glorious four days. Short rest to regain 2d10 hit die.
Devil’s Bridge
On this month’s vanlife reality topic: ‘gram pics.
Ever wonder about those epic ‘gram pics that make you crave adventuring and traveling. Something like the one above? Here’s the reality. We waited over an hour and half for our turn to take said super epic pic.
Over an hour and a half!
Despite our major crushin’ we left after hearing rumors of an extra busy weekend crowd approaching and in desperate need of showers. Full disclosure, it was mostly due to the crowds. Embrace the stench, my friends.
Flagstaff held showers (for all of us, Leinie included), laundry, and a lounge at a travel center.
Leinie does not and never will enjoy water
Squeaky clean and smellin’ fresh, we made our way to the Grand Canyon just in time for Easter brunch. We meandered along the rim trail, but snow pack and unfriendly doggo rules (but mostly snow pack) kept us from exploring below the rim.
Easter brunch in the making
We met another cool vehicle-dweller, Apocalypse Jane Doe. She dwells outa a badass Lexus suv. You’ll need to forgive me, but expensive car breeds are not my forte. Jake’s eyes were super big if that says anything. His commentary, “That vehicle is sweet.” We must’ve looked hungry, because she gave us a can of onchilada sauce. Foresty Forest anyone??
Keep ‘er moving.
A few suggestions from LA coworkers (thanks guys!), we found ourselves in Page, AZ. Unfortunately the super viral Antelope Canyon was not within our financial means (~$100/person before fees and taxes!). We did see some pretty cool things, hiked along the rimview trail and drank some beers at the Grand Canyon Brewing & Distillery.
Horseshoe Bend
Then we got our butts outta Arizona and into Utah.
Utah. A session IPA if I ever met one. Yes, you sure are pretty. But looks can be deceiving, because on closer look your beer policy made my liver cry. 5% lager, 5% IPA, 5% porter, 5% stouts, 5%, 5%, 5%. Like decaf coffee, or a hooker who only cuddles, what is the point?
Anywho, we didn’t just zip on through. Why? Zion.
Is this even real life?!
The narrows were closed, our permit for Angel’s Landing didn’t make the lottery. We ended up staying six days parked on sweet, sweet, free BLM land. Exploring trails, lounging away, listening to river music, drinking 5% beer and we met Utah Rick and Hazel. A nice long rest to regain precious spell slots.
Then we moved our butts to Bryce Canyon, the land of Hoodoos. Compact and surprisingly lacking crowds. Digestible.
Hoodoo’s galore!
But we woke up to our butter frozen. We were chasing spring north. Butter melts, head north. Butter freezes, head south. Time to get our asses outta here, to lower elevation, warmer temps or both. But where?
Our archnemesis, indecision. It was crippling, my friends.
Our temporary solution while we thought it through was Cedar City, UT. Warmer, plenty of close-to-town BLM land, trails, disc golf and a brewery! Utah, stop playin’. I could’ve lived at Policy Kings Brewery. Want something more than 5%, sure thing, we’ll crack a can (loophole!), Thurs Drag Trivia, yes please!.
Hands down, most beautiful disc golf course I’ve ever seen.
Drinking real beer again gave us perspective and the decision was made. Get your ass outta here.
Hello Idaho!
If God took a piece of the midwest and planted it squarely in the west (real west), it would be Idaho. Straight up an all american lager, drinkable and familiar but almost too comfortable. It’s as if we had never left the midwest.
First pitstop was Twin Falls, or as Jake dubbed it,“the Bigger Anoka”. He couldn’t have been more accurate. We saw some waterfalls and drank some beer. Frolfin left us in mourning for my main man Trevor, hopefully he is chasing foliage in a better place. Then we lost Cole and gained free agent Peyton. I’m not a driver gal, but Trevor left me needing to diversify.
Shoshone Falls
Then we got our butts to Boise. Oh Boise, you do not like the van-dwellers. It was hard to enjoy your attributes when you want us to not stay there. We gave it the ol’ college try. We tried Lost Grove Brewing Co. and did some disc golfing. We discovered your beautiful, flooded river green belt. Leinie and Jake enjoyed real grass since…oh, god how long has it been?? And the best IPA to grace this planet. A moment of silence for the queen of IPAs, please.
Real grass!!
We didn’t set off in the Yellow Submarine for a re-imagined midwest though. So we got our butts moving.
Into the promised land, Oregon.
Deep breath in, deep breath out. So many, oh so many people have herald the wonders and magic of Oregon. More specifically, Bend. We have tried, likely in vain, to hold our hopes and expectations in check. Maybe it was magic, maybe it was a long drive, maybe it was nothing at all. But crossing that border and entering Oregon had both Jake and I taking a big sigh.
The scenery changed, the feeling changed. We spent two nights en route to Bend and then held our breath as we entered the city that so. many. praised. We braced ourselves for disappointed, failed expectations. We stopped at the brewery closest to the camping site we picked. If first impressions matter, Bend is king.
View from our Bend basecamp
Within 48 hours, we had an amazing campsite, a gym membership for regular showers (bye stench), and a brand new city crush (sorry Sedona). It fits perfectly that Bend is where our month closes out, cuz we certainly didn’t get our butts outa Bend for a bit.
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Gettin’ Our Ish Together
Our heroes are one month into their epic campaign. What lessons have they learned along the way?
Month One: Gettin’ Our Ish Together
4/5/2023
LA - Phoenix - Sedona
We are one month in from the official start of our sabbatical year. One month! If this past month in the Submarine had a theme it would have been: Gettin’ Our Ish Together.
Prior to our sabbatical start we had already dealt with a dead engine battery and getting ourselves locked out of the Sub.
We were bound to complete the trifecta of vehicle hell at some point, why not the first week on the road. We found ourselves in Phoenix with the flattest of flat tires. Naturally, our tires are so old that no tire shop would touch them so we dipped into our precious Van Fund for a set of brand spankin’ new tires.
Sexy tires, no?
En route to Phoenix we had originally planned on staying in Joshua Tree for a few days. However, we pulled up to some nice (read: free) BLM land and after settling into base camp mode, had no ambition to move.
We saw a few sites like the Salton Sea and Slab City and met a real cool guy we dubbed Desert Scott. He mentioned us on his website here!
We adjusted to sun time versus clock time. We woke up when it got bright, ate when we were hungry, slept when tired, and went to bed at dark.
Tired trail doggo
Even though we were settling in nicely to a mini retirement, as the theme states, we still had ish to get together. We had to learn to live on limited resources because batteries don’t last forever in the desert. We needed to eliminate waste because trash stinks in your living room/kitchen/bedroom and we be broke af (so you had better finish that spinach at $1.69 a bag). A big fight had us learning super quick how to coexist in 53 sq ft.
Then there were the super sexy things like storage items to be stored, new residency to obtain, taxes to file. So after dropping Leinie with his grandparents and putting the Sub into temp storage, Jake and I trekked to the midwest to drop off storage items and gain new residency.
We made a pit stop in Colorado to visit Adam.
Gang’s back together
Gained a new hometown in South Dakota and tried the local watering hole.
Spearfish Brewing Co.
Dropped the car and storage items off with my brother, Dan, in Nebraska where we tried Site-1 Taproom and Upstream Brewing Co.
Site-1 Taproom
Upstream Brewing Co.
Hitched a ride with Ryan and Nate to Iowa, where we ate, but mostly drank our way around Des Moines, stopping at Barn Town Brewing, Exile Brewing Co and The Iowa Taproom.
Barn Town Brewing
Exile Brewing Co.
The Iowa Taproom
Then it was a flight back to Phoenix to get back on the road. Except our van’s battery was dead. Super dead. Like three attempts to charge it and move it, then leave it plugged in for 30 hours dead.
Attempt two of three
Our first difficult choice was which area to scratch from the itinerary due to the van needing shoes and meditation time. The crippling indecision was cut short when the lack of free camping and dog restrictions of the southern peaks was discovered. The Superstition Wilderness whispered, “Dogs Welcome” and “dispersed camping” in our ears and we were hooked. Battery almost fully charged, we waved adios to the fam and headed off for adventure.
If the Superstition Wilderness was a beer, it would be a crisp pale ale. It’s easy on the eyes and soul. One day of over indulgence with a hike to The Flatiron, left us bruised and questioning our life choices. But with the hair of the dog the next day, it soothed our grumpiness with an amazing hike to Fremont Saddle. Yes, I would drink in this wilderness area again.
The Flatiron
Weavers Needle from Fremont Saddle
A quick pitstop back at the folks to use laundry and a dishwasher. While listening to our stuff get squeaky clean, Jake and I took a peak at our bills. Flatiron hurt, the bills from the last few weeks hurt just as bad. Time to get our financial ish together.
A tough discussion on spending and saving had us grumbling, but we figured out a game plan going forward. Quick note to any impressionable readers: Living with someone is hard, especially in 53 sq feet. Sharing finances with someone is hard, especially with no income. Bottomline: vanlife is very, very hard at times and we’re only one month in. Look past the rose-colored lens that is plastered everywhere due to Algorithmic Big Bro.
Soapbox off, back to normal broadcasting.
Financial plan in place, a battery hopefully charged, and no more major hiccups in the works (someone knock on wood, fast) and we were back on the road. This time heading north, our sights set on the Grand Canyon.
Jake came up with the genius idea to take the winding road there, so at this time we are still en route to the Grand Canyon. We looked around Vickenburg and Prescott before regaining some hit die in Sedona.
A month-long learning curve to get our ish together. Our life resembles nuggets more than ducks. It’s less in a row and more running amok with one rogue nugget neurotically circling, squawking at random. RIP Digger, you were our very special nugget.
One final note, as part of our financial ish, we started a Patreon. We love drinking beer and sending postcards full of Leinie love. If you do too, please consider joining our patreon as postcards and stamps ain’t free. This is not a plea to finance our life choices, this is a we would love to share our journey in another way and is completely optional. Link is below. We will love y’all the same either way.
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The Exit
We are leaving…
We interrupt your normal posts with a special announcement…We are leaving.
Yellow Sub lookin’ all sexy
Our jobs that is. And our apartment. And California for that matter.
We are taking a year sabbatical, moving into the Sub and traveling around the great US of A. Our goal is to take the time to reset ourselves and our priorities.
First, we need to finish out our resignations and acclimate to full-time vanlife.
Stay tuned…
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For as much as we love the outdoors, we also love a good lazy Sunday.